Psychological Warfare
by RaventheLiterati
Summary: (England X Reader) T for cussing in a nutshell, Reader loves Arthur in middle school, he breaks her heart, she moves away and changes her name, they find themselves in the same school again, he falls for her, drama ensues.
1. introduction

**Psychological Warfare**

introduction

_Seventh Grade_

_I remember the time well, although I wish I didn't. I was lost in middle school, I thought I was someone I wasn't, a tomboy. Before you make rash judgment, allow me to defend myself. I grew up with nothing but brothers, male cousins, and male friends. So, naturally, to avoid drifting away from the only people that I knew well, I decided to alter myself._

_Granted I was completely unaware of what my subconscious was doing; all I knew I was doing was imitating the people that I looked up to- I always was a daddy's girl, anyways. I went along in this manner for some time, before I reached a complication; I fell in love, and I hated it. I hated the way that damn British boy made me feel- how he always looked down upon me, how he always made me feel insignificant. I remember that the one time that I tried to tell him how I felt, he just stared at me, scoffed, and strutted away, but the worst part by far was how I still loved him. Dammit._

A girl sat at a bench, watching a boy over the top of a book. He was sitting across the room, studying a copy of "Macbeth". She looked down at her own "Hamlet", and wondered if he liked his play. She wished that the two of them had been in the same group, that way he would be forced to interact with her- after all, that was the only way he would even admit that she exists, forced interaction.

Later that day, she ran up to him, and, red-faced, and told him as quickly as she could, "HiI'mSorryToBotherYouIJustWantToSayThatIThinkYou' reAdorableI'mSorry"- he just stood and stared. He shook his head, and replied "no." "huh?" "no, no, just no. You're like a rat. You run around with boys. You're not a girl, you're a freak." with that, he just walked away.

_Shortly thereafter, my family moved to a new town. I was heart-broken about it, leaving my friends (and love) behind, but I learned later that it was the best thing that had ever happened to me._

She looked around the cafeteria to make sure that the Brit was close enough to hear, before she announced "Guys, I'm moving to another city." she heard exclamations and accusations of lying, but she knew that it was all out of grief. What she was really concerned about was how her "friend" took the news. Upon stealing a glance, she saw that he was still calmly eating his lunch- at this sight, her heart sank even more than she thought possible.

_Indeed, I had even decided to introduce myself as my middle name, just to validate my mental resignation to start anew in this new school. I remember I met my dear friend Elizabeta that year. Liz, as I refer to her now. She was still learning English, and I was still learning how to "Be a Girl". We helped each other blossom that year, I corrected her grammar and spoke for her, she would dress me and teach me how to use makeup. In other words, we were both being led through alien territory by the other, each a beacon over a stormy sea, serving as a comfort in the land of the comfortless. I wouldn't say that she changed me, but she did help me be who I wanted to be, I always was a little priss, I just refused to accept it._

_Although this was a happy time in my life, It's not relevant to the story at hand, and, therefore, shall be omitted, but there is an unhappy memory that must be mentioned. Liz's family had decided to move back to Hungary, which, naturally, could not be allowed. The idea was proposed that she remain with my family in America, allowing her to stay with me and improve her English._

_Ironically, my family decided to move back to our home town within a year of that event- wherein my tale begins._


	2. Chapter I

**Psychological Warfare **

_**Chapter I**_

_**fall**_

_**Junior Year**_

_For me, there's always been a vague romanticism about fall; the golden leaves, spreading themselves below you, like a golden carpet, awaiting your arrival. I do confess, the first cool zephyrs of fall do get my heart racing, they always have, and the year that they don't, may by body be sunken at dawn. However, for some reason, whenever fall comes around, I find myself realizing my own expensive independence. I rule my own life, may it be known, but, other than my friends, I have nobody to share it with. Every fall serves as a birthday, if you will. A birthday for my solitude. Call me a spinster if you will, but I am only sixteen._

_Ah, sixteen! The height of frivolous youth- the frivolous youth that I, for some unknown reason, never did know. Some say that I was born an old woman- others, that I'm an old soul, trapped in a young body, born to a rowdy generation... either way, I do believe that it's safe to say that I never quite "fit in", if you will. I, as a girl can quote Shakespeare off the top of her head, but is more than incapable of explaining to you why a certain "Kim Kardashian" is relevant to modern American pop-culture, am lost in this society. Yea, I am a self-proclaimed freak; but may it be known that I am not alone in my plight, for I always have had, and always shall have, my Liz beside me._

"Hey!"

The young girl turned her head to face her friend, running towards her, holding a frying pan.

"Hey, where have you been?"

"Chem, it SUCKS! I swear I'm gunna KILL Mr. Duncan!"

Laughing, the companion of the frying pan-weilding girl said

"I'm sure it can't be that bad, what happened?"

"He gave me an F is what happened!"

"for...?"

"A test!"

"may I see?"

Upon reviewing said document, the friend of the frying-pan warrior sighed, and, pulling a similar document from her bag, motioned for the angrier of the two to sit with her.

"Liz..." said she, "I got a 94 on the same test. Here, you take mine home with you so you can see what you got wrong." Liz then proceeded to examine the second document.

"Damn. I could have sworn that valence electrons were negative."

"The more you know..."

"hfm."

"but, on a lighter note, I'M GETTING A CAR!"

"really?!" asked Liz

"Yes!"

thus began the scream fest between the two girls, drawing the attention of a certain exchange student...


	3. chapter II

**Psychological Warfare**

introduction

_**Chapter II**_

_**American High-School according to The Average English Teenager, and the Mischievous Shenanigans he finds himself drawn into.**_

**Bloody hell, this is terrible. First, my mum goes and gets a job in this cesspool of a country, then she insists upon sending me to PUBLIC SCHOOL in order to "save money". If she wanted to pinch pinnies so damn badly, why the hell don't we just charge for every drug deal I see; I'm damn sure that would work. Hell, if I tried that, we'd be bloody rich within a week! Damn.**

Thus soliloquizing, a young British man of about seventeen made his way across the main courtyard of the school, doing everything in his power to properly kill his free period. Upon closer inspection, it would be revealed that the young man went by the name of Arthur Kirkland and had messy, sandy-blonde hair, abnormally large eyebrows, a relatively short stature, and an aura of one who thought that he was better than those around him. That having been said, he didn't really draw much attention when he was around those of the opposite sex. Furthermore, the two teenage girls giggling and gossiping on a nearby bench were quite oblivious to his existence; however, the same could not be said for the boy.

**Bloody hell, what was that? **He asked himself as he passed by the two. Upon deciding that the most logical course of events would be to hide his backpack in a nearby bush, he walked up to the girls, so that he could ask if either of them had seen it, as "He had dropped it during lunch". Once he was halfway across the courtyard, he froze. "What if they think I'm forgetful? Oh hell, they're Americans, I'm sure they can't judge. Oh, what am I saying, why am I assuming they're stupid? Oh hell, oh hell..." thus debating, one of the two girls noticed.

"Uhm, excuse me, do you need any help?"

The boy's face shone like a fire.

"Erm... Uh, you see, I, erm,"

She smiled a tad, stood, and walked to the boy. Holding out her hand, she introduced herself. (maintaining the understanding that she had begun to address herself as her middle name) he smiled, shook her hand, and introduced himself as well.

"So what brings you to America, Arthur?"

"Eh, my mum's being ridiculous. Again."

"Does it have anything to do with the fact that American high-schools are "better" than those of Europe? Because that's debatable."

"what the... of course it's debatable! Who the bloody hell says that?!"

"The little old English lady in my church who moved to America, way back when, so that her children could have the education they wanted. And I must admit," she said, looking around "as poorly executed as it is, I must say that you can learn whatever you wish here. I'm bilingual now, and Liz's English is perfect!" she said, gesturing to her friend.

"she lies!" cried a voice from behind

"oh?" asked Arthur, before quickly turning his attention back to the girl in front of him. "What languages do you speak?"

"English and Spanish. I just got bored one day and decided to take more than the requisite amount of Spanish. Why not, you know?"

Arthur felt himself become enamored with this infatuating girl; she was ladylike, lively, intelligent, all the things he looked for in women. And thus, the intrigue began, however one-sided it may be.

_August 21,_

_Dear diary,_

_why must old haunts always resurface? Am I never to be free from the unhappy recollection of the one time I trusted my heart to love, only to receive a harsh, realist reality check? Oh, be__'st__ thou by bane, Mr. Kirkland, __b__e'st thou__my bane!_

**August 21**

**I met the most intriguing of women today, she was all that I admire. All that and more- you know what? It's quite possible that I shall grow to like this Hellhole; perhaps even adore it. Believe me when I say that I'll get her sooner or later.**


	4. Chapter III

**Psychological Warfare**

introduction

_**Chapter III**_

_**wherein we examine the characters surrounding our young male protagonist. (In layman's terms, the hero has arrived.)**_

"Dudeeee"

"no."

"but brooooo, call me bro!"

"Just because our parents got married doesn't mean that I have to refer to you as "brother", you git!"

"But I call you and Jack bro! Oh, and Mattie."

"can't even remember your own brother's name, you-"

"CALL ME BRO!"

Sighing, the Englishman decided that the only way to survive this conversation without dusting off his spell books and turning his (unfortunately named) brother into a woman would be a good cup of tea. Thus concluding, he rose from his seat and went into the kitchen to start the kettle. Or, at least he would have, had he not been stopped by a certain Frenchman...

"Ohononon, mon Angleterre, how are we this afternoon?"

"bugger off, wanker! And don't call me "angeletare", or whatever!"

"Ohonon, but mon ami, you are from the Angleterre, therefore you are mon Angleterre~"

"ABSOLUTELY NOT, YOU BLOODY FAGGOT!"

After hearing that sentence, the American peeked his head around the corner-

"yo, you usin' American slang? As cool as that is, that there ain't cool, bro."

"BUGGER OFF!"

and from a chair in a corner sat a timid blonde who nobody had seemed to notice, sitting, clutching a plush polar bear.

"Guys?" he asked, "can we not argue?" he went ignored as the chaos ensued.


	5. Chapter IV

**Psychological Warfare**

_**Chapter IV**_

_**Wherein we examine the interaction between our young female protagonist and the Kirkland-Bonnefoy family.**_

English Class

Alfred Jones was sitting next to a young girl of sixteen, speaking to her about his heroism and all, and she sat, pretending to be interested enough to convince him that what he was talking about was interesting. As insipid he was in conversation, he had an odd charm about him making him a desirable presence, despite the stagnant words flowing out of his mouth.

"And then that zombie totally, like, died!"

"Oh? How did it die? Headshot?"

"Hell yeah!"

"Good job!"

"Thanks, bro! Or, wait..." the rowdy boy's face fell, "Is it cool if I call you "bro" and "dude"?"

"of course, dear!"

"sweet! Say, you sound like a nice form of my brother."

"Oh? And who would that be?"

"Arthur Kirkland-Bonnefoy, but he insists on just being Kirkland. What a freak!"

"wait, he's your brother?"

"Yep."

"I thought you said your name was "Alfred F. Jones."

"it is."

"but you two are brothers..."

"yeah, so?"

"nothing."


	6. Chapter VII

_**Chapter V**_

_**Stalking is an art**_

Arthur skulked across the courtyard of the school, lurking in the shadows whenever possible. He looked over both shoulders, searching for the one face that mattered to him- and it was no where to be found. He pulled his back pack higher up on his shoulders, and ran across the atrium as quickly as he could, hell-bent upon reaching the other side without being seen-

"YO, ARTIE!"

The Brit froze- "DAMNIT, ALFRED, I TOLD YOU NOT TO BLOODY CALL ME THAT!"

"Bro, why you gotta be so prick-ish?"

"I am not "Prickish" you wanker!"

"Oh, but don't you want to meet my friends?"

"Oh, another sign of how terrible this cesspool is, Alfred has made friends. I suppose I should surmise that there are more people like you, or of a compatible personality? No, Alfred, I can guess their character with that much information."

Shortly after this rant had been spoken, Arthur noticed that one of the people around Alfred was none other than the face that he would be looking for- and she had heard every word. Struggling to find a word, the Brit felt his face grow hot. She, on the other hand, only gave a wry smile, and said "Don't worry, we won't bother you, Mr. Kirkland. Hey Al," she said, addressing the taller of the two teens, "Do you want to go see if the drink machines have turned on yet?"

"Hell yeah!"

And so, Arthur was left alone, mentally beating himself up for his rash words.

_Dear diary,_

_I knew that that lecherous wretch can't have changed. I'm sure that he still doesn't recognize me- and the way he treated his brother! Oh, what a terrible boy. I think that the most horrifying thing about this situation would be that I'm worried that he "likes" me. And Liz has not been helping to mitigate my suspicion- rather, she has been doing anything and everything in her power to "promote the match". She says that we would make a "good couple". no. absolutely not. not now, not ever. Sure, we have the same taste in literature, and tea, and art, and other things, but I am a good person, whereas he does not qualify. And so, adieu for now,_

_- yours truly._

**I messed up again today- I freaked out at the wanker Alfred, but forgot to see who was listening. Damn.**


End file.
